


On a Scale of 1-10, How Much Does It Matter?

by bokutos_official_simp



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Barely Any Romance, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M, Panic Attacks, Social Anxiety, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:28:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutos_official_simp/pseuds/bokutos_official_simp
Summary: “Of course I’m not mad. Do what makes you happy.”“And volleyball makes you happy?”Happy? Suna wouldnt use that word...“I guess.”“Then what makes ya happy?”“I don’t know...I’m not sure if I ever am.”
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85





	On a Scale of 1-10, How Much Does It Matter?

**Author's Note:**

> When the text is like [this] it’s the voices in his head so yeah

[no one wants to hear you talk]

Suna can feel his voice being caught in his throat

[just stop talking]

3 deep breaths. One. Two-

[theyre all laughing right now]

Suna feels his leg jump. 

[all of them. you made a fool of yourself]

Another stuttering breath. Why can’t he breathe?

[just shut up.]

Suna doesn’t even register when tears prick the corner of his eyes. His mind is whirling; he can’t breathe or see what’s right in front of him. 

[idiot]

[shut up]

[fool]

[stay quiet]

[no one wants to hear it anyways]

[keep your mouth shut]

[just shut up.]

“Suna?”

Suna’s brought back to reality by the voice. He snaps his head around to see Miya, uh, one of them. Suna runs through his mind quickly. His hair is going to the left so...Osamu? He forgets. They’re too easy to confuse. 

“Are you alright?”

Suna opens his mouth to assure him, or maybe snap at him. He’s not sure which one but-

[keep your mouth close]

He shuts it quickly and runs out the bathroom. 

[he saw you cry. he think you’re pathetic]

[can you blame him though?] 

Suna keeps running until he finds himself in another bathroom. There, he can properly cry and be on his way to class. He ran out during a presentation. He got one too many dirty looks from his partners and just straight up left. 

He sighs deeply. There’s no way he’s going back to that class. Nada. 

—

It’s been a couple weeks since the failed presentation and, for the most part, his classmates stay quiet about the whole thing. His partners still gives him dirty looks but he’s use to it. 

It’s been like this since elementary school. Granted, moving from Tokyo to Hyōgō gave him a new reputation. But it didn’t wash away the personality that was formed after years of endless bullying. So, he’s still known as the weird kid. Just in a different way. The mute, if you will. 

For the most part he’s left unbothered; not even important enough to be bully. But don’t worry, his thoughts bully him enough. 

“Suna?” The voice comes again. Osamu, looking as bored as ever, comes up to him right before lunch. “Wanna sit with me and ‘Tsumu for lunch?”

Suna blinks a couple times, not sure if he heard right. Is Osamu asking to... hang out? It’s not exactly hanging out but there’s something there-

[he just feels bad for you. you’re pathetic] 

Suna furrows his eyebrows. 

“Ya know, I haven’t heard yer voice,” Osamu hums.

Suna gives him a look. When others say that, it comes as an insult. But Osamu looks as if he’s simply stating a fact. Well, he is. 

Osamu raises an eyebrow at the black haired boy. The gray eyes burn his skin until he fidgets under the glaze. 

Suna opens his mouth but then just offers a nod. It seems to be enough for Osamu since he nods as well and leads Suna to a table. 

Suna squirms in the seat. He usually spends lunch somewhere in an empty classroom or the bathroom. He didn’t even bring lunch that day. 

[not like you need it, fatty] 

“Ooh, brought someone ‘Samu?” 

Suna looks up to see Osamu’s face, but the lazy expression isn’t the same. Miya Atsumu, Osamu’s twin brother. He gives Suna a smirk, almost as if challenging him to speak. 

[dont you dare speak] 

Osamu has already taken out his food and breaks his chopsticks apart. “Mhm,” he hums as he surveys his food. “This is Suna. We’re in maths together.”

They are? Suna tries to hide his surprise. No wonder Osamu knows his name..

[as if you’d be important enough to remember] 

Atsumu hums, already bored since Suna didn’t accept his challenging look. Instead, he turns to another boy the table. After listening in, Suna figures out the boy’s name is Aran; Aran-san. So he’s most likely a second or third year. 

Suna pulls out his phone to pretend he’s doing something. He scrolls through Instagram just in case Osamu looks over, but he’s just mindlessly liking posts. 

Lunch ends soon and the table goes their separate ways. Only Osamu speaks to Suna. 

“Hey, I know it’s awkward and all,” he starts as they head towards math class, “But they’re nice, I promise. Ya can eat with us again tomorrow.”

Suna wants to give him a smile, only out of manners. 

[no one likes your smile] 

So Suna just nods. He wants to ask Osamu why he was being so nice to him. Whatever. 

He looks on ahead to class. He’s surprised when he glances over and catches Osamu staring at him. Instead of looking away as soon as he’s caught, the twin gives him a smile. 

What the hell? Why’s his smile so cute? So...genuine? If it came from Atsumu, Suna wouldn’t have thought twice. The older twin had smile plenty times in the short time that is lunch. But Osamu barely smiled; only when he took a particularly good tasting bite from his food. 

Suna stares a little longer then-

[stop staring. he already thinks you’re weird] 

He snaps his head back to the path in front of them. He never looks back at Osamu until they get into class. They sit away from each other and Suna can finally collect his thoughts. 

-

A few weeks past and Osamu continues to invite Suna to the table. He waits for him just outside him class and walks him to the cafeteria.

[he’s probably just playing with you. he doesn’t actually care] 

“Oi, Suna?” Atsumu asks one day. 

Suna looks up, pretending to be confused. He actually heard Atsumu whining to Kita—oh another senpai?—and Ginjima how they couldn’t tell the twins apart. 

“Can ya tell us apart?” He gestures a hand between him and his twin. 

Osamu swallows his food and stares daggers into his brother. “Oi, leave him alone. He probably doesn’t even like you-“

Suna snorts, a bit amused. “No way.”

Suna feels his skin creep as they both stare at him. He shifts uncomfortable. In hind sight, this is the first time they’ve heard his voice so of course they’re surprised. But that’s not how Suna’s mind works. 

[you said something wrong. there goes your only friend]

[as if he was ever your friend] 

“Well, we are identical,” Osamu says after a while, turning to his brother. “Don’t be surprised when people can’t tell us apart.” 

“No way, yer ugly!”

“We have the same face genius.”

“But I wear it better~”

“‘S not a fuckin’ dress, ya can’t ‘wear it’ better fuckin dumba-“

“Boys, calm down.” 

“But Kita-san!”

“Atsumu.”

Suna rolls his eyes. “If you hate it so much, why not just..dye your hair differently of something?” Hes mostly joking and only mutters the words. 

Suna glances up to see an unreadable Osamu and excited-looking Atsumu. He adverts his glaze quickly. 

“...’Tsumu don’t give me that look-“

“‘Samu, ‘s genius!”

“Yer not gettin’ me to dye-“

“I think it would be cute,” Kita chips in. 

“Yeah, and helpful,” Aran adds. “Even after knowing y’all all this time, I still can’t tell you apart every time.” 

The table laughs a bit. 

The next Monday, the twins walk in with dyed hair. They come up to Suna, both keeping a neutral face. There’s an unspoken question, then Suna points to the one with gray hair. 

“Osamu.”

The blonde one gawks, “How’d ya know?” 

Suna scoffs, “I can feel the annoying personality radiating off of you.” 

Atsumu makes an offended noise but Suna is already walking away. Osamu catches up after a while, asking for his opinion on the hair. He says it looks nice. 

—

“C’mon, that toss was so easy!” Atsumu complains, running his fingers through blonde locks. 

Osamu mutters something under his breath that Suna doesn’t catch. 

It’s already their second year—oh my god where did the time go—and somehow the twins got Suna to join the club. It didn’t take much convincing. 

—a few months ago—

“So, ya joining any sports this year?” The blonde twins asked. 

Suna took a second, then shook his head. 

“Don’t speaks much, do ya? Well, you should join volleyball with us. Ya got the height of a middle blocker.” 

“If you want,” Osamu added, earning a scoff from his brother. 

“Yeah yeah,” Atsumu waved his hand dismissively, “So, whatcha say? Ya gonna join?” 

Suna sighed then shrugged, “You won’t leave me alone if I don’t, huh?” 

Osamu chuckled softly and nodded while Atsumu rolled his eyes with a grin. They’re so different, despite having the same face. 

“Fine,” Suna said after about a minute, “I’ll join the stupid club. Don’t expect me to be good though.” 

Atsumu grin turned into a bright smile. What has Suna gotten himself into?

—back to the present—

The club isn’t all bad. Suna starts to feels bad for Osamu, who’s constantly being yelled about by his brother. Apparently, Atsumu’s tosses are so perfect that anyone—especially a wing spiker like Osamu—should be able to hit them. 

Osamu sits down next to Suna, anger fuming from him. Despite how he’s clearly upset, he barely frowns. Atsumu is so much more... expressive?

“He’s so annoying,” Osamu grumbles, “He thinks he’s so perfect. He was always like that, ya know?” 

Suna seems to choke on his words when Osamu looks over at him. The way his gray eyes focus directly on Suna makes the middle blocker shiver. 

“U-uh, sure,” Suna manages to get out.

[stuttering idiot]

[learn to speak dumbass] 

[that answer made no sense]

[why does he even talk to you?]

Osamu doesn’t seem to mind. He only changes the subject, “Yer not from here, are ya?” 

Suna blinks in confusion, “What do you mean?” 

“Yer accent. Where were you born?” 

“Uh, Tokyo.”

For once, the voices have nothing to add. It’s like a breath of fresh air for Suna. 

“Yeah? That’s cool,” Osamu hums. He turns his attention back to their teammates who are currently fussing with Atsumu over a quick attack. After a few seconds, he looks at Suna again, nearly catching the boy staring. “Hey, wanna go get sum to eat after this? ‘M starving.”

“M-me?” Suna has to sip his water to make it seem like his throat‘s just dry, “What, is the team grabbing a bite after this?”

“Nah, just the two of us?” 

Now Suna is confused. Just the two of them?

[dont get ahead of yourself fool]

“Suna?” 

“What?” Suna is brought out his thoughts. “Uh.. yeah, sure. That sounds cool.” 

Osamu nods and turns away again. After a little break, he goes back on the court. Suna follows after a few minutes, but his mind can’t focus on volleyball. Just a bite, huh?

—

Suna looks at Osamu. 

[dont stare]

Suna cracks a smile at Osamu’s joke. 

[stop your smile is weird] 

“What’s yer favorite color?” 

[dont talk too much about yourself]

Suna hums to acknowledge the question and ponders. 

[dont talk about yourself at all]

Suna can’t even hear the voices, his mind is too clouded with Osamu’s gray eyes. They’re so still; so unreadable. Like a sky that’s ready brew up a storm, but it’s vague. No one knows when the storm is due. No one can tell what’s in Osamu’s eyes. 

“Gray,” Suna says after a while. 

“Gray?”

“Mhm,” Suna takes a bite of his onigiri, unable to do so normally due to the fact Osamu’s gray glaze are burning into his skin. 

[weirdo. freak. what kind of answer is that?]

Osamu smiles. “Lucky fer me, huh? I’m gray all over.” 

Suna wonders if it’s teasing. 

[dont think so high you of yourself. he’s mocking you] 

“What, uh..w-what about you? 

[there goes that weird stutter. freak] 

“Hmm,” Osamu draws random circles on the table in front of them. Suna is convinces he’ll die if the boy continues to be so cute. “Maybe...green?”

He flashes a smile at Suna, and that’s when it hits his. His flicks his eyes—his green eyes—away from Osamu. He wants to smile on instinct but-

[ew. your smile is gross] 

Osamu notices when Suna furrows his eyebrows, so he tilts his head in confusion. “Oi Suna? You good?”

Suna doesn’t register the first time he asks, but responds the second time. “Yeah... I’m more than good.” He lets himself smile. 

From the corner of his eyes—the fucking color of Miya Osamu’s favorite color—he sees Osamu relax. Was he worried about-

[as if he would ever worry about you]

But that thought doesn’t bother him. Osamu seems relaxed, and that’s all that matter at the moment. 

—

The fight. THAT fight. The fight they left both the Miyas bruised and irritated. The fight they made Kita glare at them, and Akagi throw a concerned look at Gin. 

The fight that Osamu came to Suna about. So now they’re lying on Suna’s bedroom floor, silence filling the room. So unbearable. The voices are louder than ever-

“He says he’ll be the happier twin,” Osamu says suddenly. 

Suna flinches slightly at the sudden noise but listens nonetheless. “Happier?”

Osamu nods. “When we’re old, he’ll be the more satisfied one. When I die first, he’ll be able to say just that. That he was happier.” 

Suna doesn’t know what to say. How can Atsumu say that to his own brother? To his own twin? 

“Why is it a competition?” he asks instead, since he couldn’t really put his thoughts into words. 

“Everything’s a competition with us,” Osamu scoffs. “I thought ya knew that by now.” 

“But this isn’t something simple, Osamu,” Suna can feel anger bubbling in him. “This isn’t volleyball, or who’s taller—no I still don’t know who is—this is bigger. This is happiness. Why the fuck would you make that a competition?

“You’re brothers for fuck sakes, can’t he be happy for you for once? Does he not want you to be happy? To fucking purse your dreams? What kind of brother is that?” 

“Suna-“

“No, Osamu! He’s full of bullshit!”

Suna gasps lightly as his own words. He didn’t mean to snap at Osamu. God, he hates that he did. He covers his mouth as if that’ll take the words back. 

[wow he hates you now. for sure.]

“You done?” Osamu’s voice comes, amusement lingering there. “Ya know... that was really sweet.”

Suna turns his body away from Osamu to hide the tears pricking his eyes. 

[how many times will you cry in front of him? pathetic]

“You... yer not mad that I’m leaving? Arent ya doing volleyball after high school?”

Suna sighs. “Yeah...I might go professional, who knows? And no, of course I’m not mad. Do what makes you happy.”

“And volleyball makes you happy?”

Happy? Suna wouldnt use that word...

“I guess.”

Suna hears Osamu shifting in his spot. The gray haired boy is now sitting up and waits for Suna to turn back to him. When he does, he’s captivated by those gray eyes once more. 

“Then what makes ya happy?” He asks. 

Suna thinks for a second. “I don’t know...I’m not sure if I ever am.”

“Huh?”

Suna takes a deep breath and pulls himself up to a sitting position. He brings his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. “Happiness... i guess you can say it’s foreign to me? I’m not- I can’t be....” he sighs, still not looking at Osamu despite those eyes burning into his half-hidden face. “It’s hard, that all. 

“I’ve been...sad—since elementary school. No one likes me and I can’t bring myself to talk to people. I get so nervous and I doubt myself so much, it’s fucking frustrating. It’s not- I can’t... theres these-“ fuck how does he explain without sounding crazy? “...voices? 

“There’s these voices—theyre not mine. But I can hear them. Sometimes clearer than usual. Sometimes the volume seems to be at ten. And they just remind me how much I hate myself. How much other people hate me.

“So, no. Volleyball doesn’t make me happy. But it’s hard to make me happy, so whatever.”

[why’d you tell him all that? he doesn’t care]

[attention seeking much?]

[can you trust him with that?]

[learn to shut the fuck up]

[he doesn’t care]

[shut up]

[attention seeker]

[run away. it’s the only thing you’re good at]

[he doesn’t care]

[you’re vulnerable]

[shut up]

[you can’t trust him]

[these thoughts should stay silent]

[dont ever tell anyone] 

[attention whore] 

[he doesn’t care.] 

Suna looks up, surprised to see Osamu listening with a gentle look on his face. He offers a smile but the sadness in his eyes are as clear as day. It makes Suna’s heart twist. 

[run away]

“What’s the volume now?”

[run away]

Suna blinks—only then realizing that he’s crying—and gives a confused look. 

[run away] 

“How loud are the voice right now? On a scale of 1-10.”

“A fucking seven, Osamu.” 

[stop]

Suna is engulfed with a hug. He chokes out his voice but with no words. He can’t speak. 

[run...]

The voices go quiet as Osamu rubs Suna’s back gently. Hes humming in his ear as he tightens the grip. 

How long has it been since Suna received a hug? 

“What about now Suna? What’s yer voice at?” 

“...”

“Zero.”

-

After that day, Osamu asks fo call Suna “Rin”. It comes as a shock but he smiles—a very quiet voice telling him not to—and says he can. 

When Osamu first says it in front of the team, Atsumu gawks. “Nani?! Sunarin, can I call ya Rin?” 

“No.”

The deadpan answer gets Atsumu to gasp. “Meanie. When did you become to mean, Suna? You’ve been around ‘Samu too much.” 

“Oi, what do I have to do with it?”

“He was silent, a fucking angel. Now look.”

“He probably hated you the whole time.”

Another gasp from Atsumu followed by Aran and Akagi chuckling. 

“Fucking bastard-“

“Oi, enough.”

“But Kita-“

“Atsumu, just get dressed.”

Suna finds himself snickering. He catches Osamu’s eyes, the mischievous grin being mirrored. 

“Osa,” Suna says randomly as they walk home that day. 

“Hm?” Osamu looks up from his phone. “Osa?”

“Yeah. You need a special nickname from me.”

“...What about ‘Samu?”

Suna curls his lips at that. “Ew, no. That’s Atsumu’s nickname for you. Osa is cuter.” 

“If you say so,” Osamu snorts. 

“Fucking dickhead.”

“Bitch.”

They stare at each other for a second before laughing fondly. The voices are silent. 

-

Suna shakes his leg as he listens to the team talking—whether it’s bickering or chatting or hyping each other up, Suna has no clue. He’s too busy on his thoughts. 

[this is nationals. don’t fuck up in front of the entire country]

[everyone will see your mistakes]

[dont forget how pathetic you are]

[run away]

[everyone is watching] 

[dont fuck up]

[run away] 

[you’ll probably fuck up]

[you’ll cry in front of millions of people] 

[r u n] 

“Rin.”

Suna snaps out his thoughts as Osamu’s voice calls him. He looks up to see the team staring at him. 

“Not fair,” Atsumu rolls his eyes, “He only listens to ‘Samu.”

“Shaddup,” Osamu mumbles. He looks at Suna with concerned eyes. 

The younger twin seems to be the only one to catch Suna’s ticks and tells. His legs are shaking so badly, bouncing up and down while he’s sitting. Now that his hands are in his lap—they were on his face before this—he’s picking at them with his nails; sharp enough to prick and make them bleed. And he was completely zoning out before this, not even snapping at Atsumu for using his given name (the team was trying to get his attention). 

“Y-yeah?” He manages to get out. The shake in his voice is enough to make Kita soften his glaze. 

“Rin,” Osamu repeats, getting up from his spot but not advancing towards the middle blocker. “What’s yer volume at?”

The question confuses the team. Even Atsumu is giving Osamu an accusing glaze, a bit ticked off by how he didn’t understand. 

“Eleven. A fucking eleven, Osa.” 

This gets the boy to wordless get up to him and hug him. He mutters soothing words to him for a few minutes. He doesn’t even register them until they’re on the ground, Osamu playing with Suna’s hair. 

“It’ll be alright.”

“It’s okay to make mistakes.”

“No one is judging you.”

“It’s not the end of the world.”

And so Suna calms down. His breathing goes back to normal and he’s focused on Osamu’s calming heartbeat; so steady, so calm. It’s how Suna thinks of Osamu. Steady and calm; a storm waiting to happen. 

-

It didn’t hurt too much when they lost against Karasuno in the second round. Though it did hurt to see Kita cry. It was also a bit amusing since his crying face was funny. 

It didn’t hurt too much when they lost against Karasuno—yet again—in their third year. At least they made it to the third round that time. 

And it doesn’t hurt too much now. Graduating. All three of them—Suna and the twins—going they’re separate ways. They’re all sitting together, only a year after graduating, all their bags packed up. 

“So Rin-kun, I heard from Omi-kun that yer joining EJP Raijin?”

Suna hums. After the blonde twin being annoying all year, he gave in to “Rin-kun”. It’s just Atsumu’s thing. 

“How does Sakusa know?” Suna asks. 

“His cousin joining them too!” Atsumu grins. “Maybe y’all will be friends. Wouldn’t that be cute? My boyfriend’s cousin and my brother’s-“

“Stop,” Osamu sighs. “First of all, Sakusa-kun isn’t yer boyfriend. Secondly, don’t finish that sentence.”

Suna sneers at Atsumu as he mutters something under his breath. 

“What about you Atsumu?” Suna looks off into the sunset. 

“So glad you asked Su-Su!” Atsumu laughs. “The Jackals signed me, so I’ll be heading to Osaka.” 

Suna hears Osamu sigh at this; he and the gray haired twin were both set to Tokyo, a full two and a half out train ride from Osaka. How would the twins handle not being a hallway away for each other? And so suddenly...

“Hey, lighten up,” Atsumu jabs Suna, who coils away in fake disgust. “We’ll play some games in Tokyo, don’t worry.” He glances at his brother. “And I’ll make sure to stop by Miya Onigiri~” 

Osamu snorts, a bit amused, while Suna smiles proudly. After a year since starting his business, he managed to extend his chain to Tokyo. He also has a shop in Miyagi, but he doesn’t visit often. 

“Yeah, you better.”

“We’ll be okay,” Atsumu insists. “We’ll always be best friends, right?”

“Like I have a choice.”

“Rin-kun?” 

Suna swallows the lump in his throat; he didn’t even notice it until now. “Yeah... for sure.”

“Rin?”

“Hm?”

“What’s yer volume?”

“...3.”

“That’s pretty quiet,” Osamu smiled softly. 

Suna returns it, only briefing looking at him. “Yeah...it’s better now. So much better.”

And sure, Suna’s anxiety never fully went away. He still gets panic attacks from time to time; the voices are too loud to ignore sometimes. But those days, he calls up Osamu and they spend hours on the phone just talking. Or Osamu would come over—when he wasn’t visiting his shop in Osaka which he does often—and cuddle Suna until it passes. So steady, so calm. 

And the words slip out so easily. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Rin.”

And the voices don’t speak up.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh I know I’ve written Osasuna before but I found this in my notes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
